Chocolate Please
by ayameru
Summary: During the American occupation post WWII, it was customary for Japanese children to go up to American soldiers asking for chocolate. Kiku was distraught when he found his brother being one, and went in to the camp only to be harassed by former students.
1. Chapter 1

"Chyo-chyokoreetopreezu." A small, skinny boy stood in front of a few army men, shaking. He wore relatively clean (everything is relative here), but worn shorts and a shirt. His hair was trimmed neatly, but his elbows and knees were a little raw, and there were traces of dirt on the back of his shirt and pants. He stared up at the large men, eyes wide and lips trembling. "Chyokoreetopreezu," he repeated.

The men stood in silence for a few moments, eyeing each other. One started laughing. Then the others followed.

"You want chocolate?" the first asked. "This…?" He pulled out a bar of chocolate ration from his pants pocket when he got a blank stare. The boy nodded his head.

"Whacha gonna do for it?" another asked, swiping the chocolate bar from his hand. "You don't expect him to give this to you for free, d'ya?" He got another blank stare.

The men had to take a step back in their head to remind themselves that they are not in America. This child does not understand English. Though, there was not much body language couldn't convey when it came to power relationships between an American soldier and a Japanese civilian.

The soldier waved the candy bar in front of the boy's face, and he blankly followed it with his eyes.

"If you want it," he laughed. "Beg for it." He pointed to the dirt ground in front of the boy to make clear his order. The small child blinked up at him, and began bending his knee (to the amusement of the men surrounding him) until he was suddenly caught by the cuff of his shirt and pulled back up.

"How many times," a voice hissed from behind the boy in Japanese, instantly petrifying him. "Did I tell you to not come into this complex…?"

"B-brother- I… I didn't...!" The men's eyes widened, as well as the small boy's, as a hand came up and slapped him harshly across the face. A young man with neatly cropped black hair, clad in a dark kimono stared down at the boy, eyes narrowed.

"Please forgive him," he bowed to the men, speaking in English. "He is just a boy. He doesn't know any better." He clasped the small boy's hand, as the boy bit back a sob, eyes tearing up, holding his reddening cheek with the other.

"Eh," the soldier holding the chocolate scoffed. "He wasn't doing no harm. Just bein' entertaining."

"Say…," a third soldier mused, staring at the young man. "Aren't you Kiku…?"

The young man froze mid bow and bit his bottom lip. "Well, aren't you?"

He grudgingly pulled himself back up to face the man. "Yes, I am."

"Ah! I knew it! When're you coming back?" the soldier asked, brightly.

"I am not coming back anymore, sir," Kiku replied slowly.

"What do you mean you ain't coming back?" he snorted. "You need the money, doncha? Everyone around here needs the money. 'Sides, we like you here." He laughed as he pulled up Kiku's chin to face him. Kiku's grip on his little brother's hand tightened, and the little boy could feel his brother shaking just a little.

"Please don't touch me," Kiku requested, laying a hand on the soldier's holding his chin. The hand was instantly caught by the wrist by the soldier, and pulled.

"C'mon now. Don't be such a downer, Kiku," he laughed. "I'd like you to meet my new friends here, too." He winked at the few soldiers around him.

"Please, I really do not think this is appropriate… My brother is here…"

"Your brother needs to know these things, donchathink?" the soldier smirked. "Now let him run and come back with us. We have a lot of catching up to do, _sensei_."

The blond haired man noticed the small conflict going on at the edge of the complex while walking towards his bunk, with a cup of ice cream in hand. He gravitated towards the scene, spooning the ice cream into his mouth.

"Wha's goin' on here?" he asked, mouth half full of ice cream. "He doesn't look like he wants you touching him." He eyed the young Japanese man's fruitless tug of war with the soldier in attempt to get his arm back.

"Leave it, Jones. It has nothing to do with you," the soldier with the chocolate bar called. "He's just bitter 'cuz his woman ain't listening to him no more."

"I am not his woman!" Kiku shouted venomously, glaring at the speaker. He managed to yank his wrist out of the other man's grip, and tucked it to his chest protectively, ignoring the pain.

"Why you little-," the soldier raised his hand, ready to strike, but as soon as Kiku tensed up in alarm, the blond man's hand was on the soldier's wrist, holding it securely, the other hand still holding the ice cream cup.

"You shouldn't hurt young boys, Manfred," he said absentmindedly, ignoring the thrashing of the man under him. "You touched him first. These people don't like to be touched, from what I've heard."

"Ain't got nothing to do with you, Jones," the soldier complained, glaring up at him. "Tsch… Forget it…" He yanked his wrist back and spat at the ground, and began stalking off, the others following him, laughing.

"You got owned by the young one, son," one snorted while they left, not bothering to give even a look back to the people they were leaving behind.

"T-thank you very much," Kiku bowed deeply to the blond man. "You have saved us, Mr. Jones."

"C-call me Alfred," he replied, blushing a little, scratching the back of his head. "It was nothing… You looked really uncomfortable…"

"Thank you. Now, I must go," the Asian man bowed once more, and abruptly turned around, dragging the small boy behind him, who waved a little at Alfred. Alfred waved back, a little lost, not realizing that his ice cream was beginning to melt in the cup.

"I told you, Ryuuta kun," Kiku chastised hoarsely, swiftly walking out of the base. "I told you I did not want to go back in there."

"I-I'm sorry!" the little boy sniffled. "T-the boys… The boys said…."

"The boys said what?" Kiku asked, not decreasing his speed, almost dragging his little brother behind him back to their house.

"T-they said that I needed to prove that I'm a man… B-because you aren't one…"

Kiku froze, and Ryuuta almost walked right into him.

"W-what silly things they say!" he laughed hollowly, turning back to his little brother.

"B-but you ARE a man, brother… Right?" Ryuuta asked, peering up at him with large, clear eyes.

"Of course I am, silly boy," Kiku smiled, shutting back the darkness. "Let's go home… Please don't go in there again, okay…? Brother will be worried sick…"


	2. Chapter 2

"Maybe we should move back to the city," the young man mused quietly to himself, blankly staring at the wall. "Ryuuta may not even remember what happened anymore…"

He spent another few minutes drowning in his thoughts before he was startled back to his senses by a call across the room.

"Kiku! You have customers! Stop making them wait!" the manager yelled, beckoning him to the entrance of the dimly lit store.

Kiku was clad in slightly feminine kimono that was in stark contrast to the dark, simple kimono he wore during the day. He ceremoniously adjusted the small hairpiece on his head and hopped off the bar stool. Westerners and their kimono fetishes- he would never understand.

He allowed himself to be guided to a table filled with men from the military base nearby, seated in a semi-circular couch that surrounded the round table. He bowed deeply.

"I apologize for the delay," he said in fluent English. "My name is Kiku, and I will be serving you tonight."

He raised himself, smiling, then froze. In the midst of the five men was the young blond man with glasses from earlier, sitting in the center, looking a little more than slightly uncomfortable.

"May I take your orders?" Kiku finished smoothly, shaking surprise away from his head. The boy must be new, he concluded. He has probably never been to a bar like this. He smiled directly at him, and watched him color, with amusement.

"I will be back in a moment," he excused himself, and went back to retrieve jugs of beer. Kiku personally found this brand disgusting, but the Americans loved it. Yet another thing he would never understand.

Kiku came back to the table with jugs full of beer and slid them to every man, scooting himself into the rounded booth as well. His job was to make them talk, and order them drinks so they will keep talking. Many stayed long into the night, sometimes into early morning where an employee would have to call someone at the base to take them back because they were too drunk and incoherent to do so themselves. Kiku always managed to get a few dozen drinks in before they all drunk themselves to sleep or left (or more dragged away). His proficiency with English, having been an English teacher for a short period of time before the war, probably helped in his conversation skills.

Oh, the irony of the fact that the language of the demons was being used to feed him and his brother and keep food on their plates.

He would listen all night long about their work and family, and listen to them complain about a superior or brag about a new accomplishment.

Alfred didn't talk much. Kiku liked that. The rest of the men did enough to cover for him anyways, trying to impress him, fighting for his attention. When one of the soldiers noticed Kiku quietly studying the young man, he slapped Alfred in the back roughly.

"This's our new officer, Kiku," he grinned. "He just came from the mainland last week. And it's his birthday today! That's why we're here!"

"Oh, is that so?" Kiku smiled. "Then we must celebrate."

Ignoring the flustered American who attempted to convey that nothing was necessary, Kiku clapped his hands and called for a birthday drink and for the other waiters to come sing for him.

"Happy birthday, Mr. Alfred," Kiku said as he passed him the martini after the song was over. "May your year be filled with blessings."

It was almost dawn by the time Kiku was allowed to change out of the gaudy kimono and into his normal wear and snort to himself as he walked back home in the dark. Somehow it was all just too funny- that he had wished an American blessings. He may look harmless, Kiku told himself under his breath, but he's one of them- one of them that killed so many of his people.


End file.
